


Face to Face

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cat and Mouse, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dancing, First Kiss, Frenemies, Kiss under mistletoe, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Masks, New Year's Eve, Nygmobblepositivity, Nygmobblepot, Nygmobblepot Week 2017, Slow Dancing, kings - Freeform, nygmobblepot week, nygmobblepotweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 03:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12160359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: Fifth Fic for Nygmobblepot Week. Prompt: 'Kings'.Ed gate crashes Oswald's annual New Year's Eve Masquerade to 'capture the king of Gotham'.





	Face to Face

‘The theme is supposed to be birds’, Oswald pronounced, taking a drink of champagne.

He kept his eyes facing ahead, taking in the dozens of party goers chattering and laughing as a DJ played music from a large stage against the wall. Each person wore a colourful themed mask bedecked with feathers or beaks. Some of the ladies even had ornamental wings fixed to the backs of their stylish dresses as they danced with their partners, the lights from the party and amount of people making it easy to ignore the frosty night that could be seen beyond the vast glass windows.  
A banner reading ‘Happy New Year’ fluttered above this and a large neon digital display showed the current time, ready for the big annual countdown.

The newcomer emerged from behind the pillar Oswald had been leaning against, recognising that Oswald’s statement had been meant for their ears.

Oswald raised an eyebrow as he saw Ed had foregone his customary green suit and bowler hat in favour of a stylish yet understated black tuxedo. The only hint to his true identity was a small, silver question mark shaped tie pin.  
So, he wasn’t ‘on the job’ tonight.  
Interesting.

‘I _am_ a bird’, Ed replied, passing both hands dramatically over his face, ‘Or what birds used to be. I have feathers don’t I?’

Oswald had noticed the mask as soon as he had spotted Ed moving through the crowd behind him. Unlike the other party goers, the surface of Ed’s domino mask was like the skin of a reptile, its smooth scales painted in glimmering emerald green and topaz. At the edges were indeed tiny black feathers, arranged as if they were growing out of the edges of the mask.  
Oswald had a sneaking suspicion Ed had made it himself.  
Typical contradictory Ed: wanting to stand out even when trying to infiltrate an enemy’s stronghold.

‘I was expecting a peacock from a show off like you’, Oswald sniffed and took another sip of champagne.

Ed examined Oswald’s mask as he helped himself to a snack from a passing waiter’s tray.  
As he bit into the small pastry, he nodded appreciatively at the taste.  
Oswald only ever had the finest fare at his parties.  
As he assessed Oswald’s mask, Ed found it surprisingly subdued when compared to Oswald’s usual fashion choices.

Oswald’s mask was pure white, a stark contrast to his black tuxedo but a perfect match for his white gloves. Black gems outlined the eye holes and Oswald was wearing black eyeliner and mascara that heightened his pale green eyes. The surface of the mask was not smooth but rather composed of white feathers meticulously layered over each other. Most surprisingly, Oswald’s hair was a light blonde albeit arranged in its usual crest like style.

‘I wasn’t expecting a swan for you’, Ed commented, swallowing the remains of the snack.

He licked his gloved fingers clean one by one, using his teeth to nibble at the ends.  
He grinned cattishly at Oswald’s unwavering stare at his chest as he obviously tried to ignore Ed’s ‘grooming’.

‘Is it supposed to reflect the ‘Ugly Duckling’ fable or am I overthinking it?’ Ed asked, concluding his toilette by licking his lips.

‘I thought you liked surprises’, Oswald challenged.

This overt flirting was a new tactic that Ed was employing.  
A transparent attempt to jab Oswald with memories of whatever feelings Oswald may have had for Ed once upon a time.  
That suited Oswald just fine.  
He could enjoy the view while Ed foolishly thought he was getting under his skin.  
Ed was an insufferable, self-absorbed bastard but Oswald could not deny he was aesthetically pleasing.  
Especially in an unusual, romantic setting like a masked ball that promised intrigue and mystery.  
Oswald knew it often amused Ed to dress in costume and keep people guessing before unveiling himself and catching them unawares.  
It was why Oswald had made sure Ed would hear about this little soiree in the first place.  
He had known Ed would be unable to resist coming out of hiding.

‘Speaking of’, Ed said, heedless of Oswald’s theorising, ‘You don’t seem surprised to see me’.

Oswald finished his drink and put it down on a nearby table.

‘If your plan was to surprise me, you shouldn’t have bragged about coming to ‘capture the King of Gotham’ all over the evening news’.

‘Oh? You were watching then?’

‘I didn’t have much choice since you hijacked every channel. I should be flattered my attention means so much to you. But, thanks to your little announcement, the GCPD are all on high alert, trying to protect the mayor while you’re here exploiting my hospitality. Enjoy it while you can’.

‘I know’, Ed said, a devilish glint in his eyes, ‘One click of your fingers and I’m dead’.

‘Before you can blink’, Oswald agreed, invading Ed’s personal space in challenge.

Both men stared at each other, hard without blinking.  
After a moment, Ed chuckled softly and stepped back. Oswald flinched as Ed suddenly bowed low and extended a hand.

‘In that case I suppose I had better blink first’, Ed said, winking impishly ‘May I have this dance?’

Oswald looked at Ed’s offered hand and hesitated.  
The whole point of tonight was to ensnare Ed to teach him some respect.  
Oswald had no talent for the pedestrian sport of chess but had proven adept at its application to real world situations.  
Except when Ed was involved.  
No matter what way Oswald had attempted to expand his empire in the last three months, Ed had always seemed to be one step ahead, leaving behind riddles and hints as to how he had undone each of Oswald’s carefully laid plans.  
What really irked Oswald was that Ed seemed to see thwarting him as a game and did not seem to consider him a worthy opponent no matter how many thugs Oswald dispatched to try and catch Ed.  
It was becoming a tedious, unrewarding routine.  
And yet here was Ed, having walked into a trap willingly after specifically designating Oswald as his target.  
Had Ed swanned into this New Year’s party bold as brass just to mock Oswald by asking for a dance?!  
Did Ed really have nothing better to do on New Year’s Eve?!

 _‘Then again’_ , Oswald thought, taking Ed’s hand, _‘Neither do I. Fine: one dance, one last pleasant experience for old time's sake. Then I kill him’._

As Ed began to lead Oswald towards the dance floor, the song changed.  
He and Ed began to sway from side to side in time with the moody, languid rhythm.

‘I wonder how many people here know you’re naturally blonde?’

Oswald did not reply.  
Ed was the only one who knew that little secret. After all, he’d been the one buying the black hair dye when Oswald was recuperating in his apartment.  
Oswald shuddered as he felt Ed run his long fingers through his hair.  
He knew he should pull away but refused to give Ed the satisfaction.

‘It suits you’, Ed whispered, smiling at how he could feel how soft Oswald’s hair was even through the leather of his gloves.  
Like feathers… 

‘I find it amusing how you think coming here without your glasses and a little product in your hair will keep people from recognising you’, Oswald said, pointedly taking hold of Ed’s hand and returning it to his hip.

Ed looked around from left to right before tilting his head cockily.  
The implication was clear to Oswald: it seemed to be working for Ed so far.

‘Speaking of disguises, why haven’t you dyed your hair tonight?’ Ed asked, ‘Hiding from me?’

Oswald scoffed at Ed’s taunting.

‘Or so you could accept my offer of a dance without anyone judging you?’ Ed continued.

‘No-one would dare’, Oswald said in a voice that caused a tingle to run up and down Ed’s spine.

‘For my sake alone then?’ Ed pressed, ‘Should I be the one flattered now?'

‘For my _own_ sake', Oswald corrected, 'I wanted to enjoy tonight without worrying about the usual endless small talk and tributes. Or pointless questions’.

‘Aren’t tributes and politics part of being a king?’ Ed asked, ignoring Oswald’s last remark about questions, ‘As for enjoying yourself, were you planning to support the wall and drink alone all night? Looks like I gate crashed just in time’.

‘You gate crashed because I allowed it. I saw you as soon as you walked in’.

Oswald was not about to admit he had been searching for Ed since the party had begun hours earlier. He had actually been about to give up until he had seen the lizard mask glinting at him through the crowd as it crept ever closer.  
He still recalled the nagging sense of disappointment he had felt when he thought Ed was not coming but he was not about to admit that either.

‘You also know where my safehouse is’, Ed said, ‘It’s how I got your invitation. Curious how you didn’t just put a bomb through the mailslot or wait for me to show up them ambush me. You’ve gone to considerable expense to teach me a lesson’.

‘That’s rich coming from you’, Oswald rebuffed, ‘You never just ‘kill’ anybody. Maybe _I_ felt like putting on a show for once'.

‘Ah, so this _is_ all for me then?’

Oswald rolled his eyes, mouth tight, trying to downplay how flustered he was.

‘How did you recognise me anyway?’ Oswald asked, ‘It seems my body double wasn’t worth the money’.

Ed smirked.  
To the unpracticed and unfamiliar eye the man Oswald had hired as a stand in was really quite convincing. He was even wearing a prosthetic nose beneath his penguin mask and was playing his part admirably, greeting guests and making small talk. He even limped when he walked albeit sometimes on the wrong foot.

Ed used one finger beneath Oswald’s to raise his chin up.  
Oswald looked up at him defiantly but Ed was rewarded with the edges of a blush peeking out from beneath Oswald’s mask.

‘Your eyes’, Ed said quietly, ‘How’d you recognise me?’

‘The smug look under your mask’, Oswald sniped, looking away.

Ed laughed.

 

 _‘What am I doing?’_ Ed wondered, trying his hardest to disguise his spontaneous nervous laugh as a lighthearted chuckle.

 _‘You’re letting him win'_ , an old familiar voice replied from the darkness of his mind, _‘You shouldn't let people win, they don't learn anything’._

Ed shook his head, trying to ignore the snide voice in his head.  
Showing his face here was not admitting defeat.  
He was forcing Oswald to interact with him personally rather than Oswald dispatching his henchmen to apparently do his dirty work for him. Ed had taken every impersonal murder attempt (ironically) as a personal insult and had upped his game accordingly but Oswald had still not deigned to show his face once.  
No matter what he did, Oswald simply refused to come see Ed personally.  
Even when they had something so important to discuss.  
So, Ed’s only option had been to call Oswald out by declaring a public challenge over the TV where everyone in Gotham could see.  
That had ruffled Oswald’s feathers alright.  
Ed knew (despite his frustration with Ed’s machinations) that Oswald would want to have the customary power play and ego stroking before dispatching him.  
He had been correct in this assumption and had entered the party without trouble.  
Now he just had to do what he came here to do.

 _‘I have to do something or we’ll end up running around in circles forever. It's ok to give a hint’_ , Ed protested. _‘That's not against the rules’._

 _‘A hint?!’_ his shadow-self asked incredulously, _‘You’re been throwing yourself at him for weeks now. Face it Eddie, this bird’s not going to bite’._

 _‘There’s still time’_ , Ed insisted, looking at the wall mounted digital display, conscious of his self-imposed deadline.  
If his gamble tonight didn’t pay off he had decided he would end the rivalry with Oswald.  
He refused to torture himself any more, no matter how much he craved their verbal jousts and Oswald’s attention.

 _‘Fine, it’s pointless talking to you’_ , his shadow-self sneered, _‘But the clock’s ticking Cinderella. He'd better give the right answer this time’._

 _‘He will’_ , Ed insisted, watching another precious minute vanish into the either in a click of neon green, _‘I believe in him’._

 

 _‘I should call security’_ , Oswald thought, eyes locked on Ed’s chest, _‘But they would ask why I didn’t call them right away’._

He glanced up at Ed’s face and saw his eyes were distant, lost in the music.  
As they turned, Oswald caught sight of the polished floor beneath them.  
A chessboard pattern of white and black.  
It was why Oswald had chosen this venue for the New Year’s party instead of the more familiar Iceberg Lounge.

 _‘You never could resist a challenge or a convenient visual pun’_ , Oswald thought smugly, _‘Always so predictable Ed. I have you right where I want you and I didn’t have to lift a finger’._

His eyes widened as Ed suddenly twirled him under his arm and caught him before he could stumble on his bad knee.  
Ed winked playfully as they resumed dancing and Oswald's heart fluttered.

 _‘But then, why am I still dancing?’_ Oswald wondered, _‘Why do I let you make me feel this way?’_

Deep down he knew why Ed was really here and seeing Ed’s contemplative expression, it was obvious he knew too.  
There had never been any chance of either one of them hurting the other tonight despite their posturing.  
Oswald swallowed hard.  
It would all depend on which one of them would give in first.

‘Ed, when you said you were going to ‘capture’ me what did you mean?’ he asked aloud.

‘You need to figure it out for yourself’, Ed answered wistfully.

‘Why should I?’ Oswald countered, irked by Ed’s stubbornness, ‘When I can just have my men beat the answer out of you?’

‘Because that would mean you give up and can’t answer’, Ed said, beeping Oswald’s nose in defiance of the pointless threat, ‘Or you simply won’t out of wounded pride’.

‘Maybe I just don’t care about your silly riddles anymore!’ Oswald snapped, patience with Ed’s ‘game’ finally exhausted.

He stopped dancing and broke from Ed’s grip.  
Around them, the other dancers continued, oblivious to what could have been easily misconstrued as a lover’s quarrel.

‘Maybe I’m done chasing you!’ Oswald cried but then snapped his mouth shut before he could say anything more. 

He was not prepared to give Ed any further ammunition. 

‘Then why are we still doing this?’ Ed sighed, adjusting his mask.

‘Dancing?’

‘Why haven’t we killed each other yet?’ Ed said thoughtfully, as if he were voicing a potential solution to a mathematical equation aloud, ‘We say we’re enemies and we make a big show of trying to kill each other and yet here we are not killing each other. Why?’

‘Because it’s bad manners to start bleeding over someone else’s floor?’

‘Please Oswald’, Ed begged, eyes narrowing at Oswald’s deliberately frivolous answer, ‘We both know the real reason I came here tonight’.

‘It seems you’re going to have to spell it out for me’, Oswald shrugged, ‘If only you could give a straight answer’.

Oswald tried to ignore the disappointment on Ed’s face and the regret coiling in his stomach at his own verbal venom.

‘In chess you have to sacrifice what doesn’t matter’, Ed pronounced, as if reciting a rule from a manual, ‘Just because something seems important at first doesn’t mean it’ll be important in the endgame. You can’t allow doubt and stubbornness to dictate the game or continue using a strategy that simply doesn’t work’.

‘And what is the endgame?’ Oswald asked quietly as Ed took both of his hands in his.

‘To break this stalemate’, Ed said, looking meaningfully above them.

 

Oswald followed his eyeline and realised they were beneath a sprig of mistletoe. It was the only one in the hall and not part of the official décor but seeing the focused expression in Ed’s eyes, Oswald had a sneaking suspicion who had planted it.

‘You know, mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it’, Ed said, looking back at Oswald.

Oswald felt Ed squeeze his hands meaningfully. So hard he felt his knuckles crack.  
He inhaled shakily at the pain and the emotion behind it.  
Ed’s fingers were shaking even as they gripped his.  
He was afraid.  
This was not one of Ed’s usual pieces of trivia. It was too obvious. Two people standing under mistletoe usually….

Oswald’s cheeks felt hot beneath his mask and his stomach felt as if was fluttering upwards to join his heart pounding against his ribs.  
Was Ed suggesting what Oswald thought he was suggesting?!  
His half-hooded expression and the way he licked his lips certainly suggested so.  
And his lips were so very pink and soft looking…  
Nobody would know it was them thanks to their masks.  
What harm could it do?  
No! This was insane!  
Ed was just trying to manipulate him!  
But Ed’s hands were so warm.  
It didn’t have to mean anything! People always kissed on New Year’s Eve.  
And if Ed tried to turn it back on him, Oswald could always play it off as a taunt of his own!  
Just this once.

‘A kiss can be deadlier’, Oswald said softly then swallowed hard, ‘If-if you mean it’.

Oswald shivered as he felt Ed’s gloved hands on his cheeks and saw Ed’s face growing steadily closer to his own.  
Around them he was vaguely aware that people were chanting the countdown as they entered the final seconds of the year.  
He was startled to see that Ed had removed his mask without him noticing.

‘But-‘ Oswald stuttered, ‘But people will see’.

‘I don’t care anymore’, Ed breathed and kissed him.

Oswald’s eyes closed automatically and he moaned as he felt Ed part his lips with his tongue.  
Aroused at how forward Ed was being and the delirious realization that it did not seem to be part of some cruel joke Ed had concocted, Oswald responded with enthusiasm.  
Even if it had been a cruel joke, Oswald was unsure he would have been able to resist this.

Ed’s lips were soft, his tongue gently insistent as it tasted Oswald’s own. Oswald felt Ed suckle on the tip of his tongue and moaned into the kiss, surrendering to his desires.  
Ed’s fingers tightened on his face. It hurt but Oswald did not care: all that mattered was Ed not letting him go, holding him close and savouring the taste of him.  
All too soon, Ed drew away and cold air hit Oswald’s face as Ed’s fingers released their grip. 

Oswald stood with his eyes closed, savouring the fading warmth on his lips, the beating of his heart louder in his ears than the background noise of cheering and ‘Auld Lang Syne’ playing over the speakers.  
Oswald licked his lips, chasing the taste of Ed’s kiss as Ed’s fingers caressed his hair and he felt the gentle pressure of Ed laying his forehead against his.

‘No more masks Oswald’, Ed’s unseen voice whispered. 

After a few seconds, Oswald’s eyes snapped open as he sensed that with this pronouncement, Ed was about to leave. He caught a glimpse of Ed turning but a loud noise distracted him.  
Looking up, he saw hundreds of balloons fall down from a net set into the ceiling to celebrate the new year.

Oswald caught one of the falling balloons.  
Instead of the black and white he had specified, somehow every falling balloon was neon green and emblazoned with question marks.  
Oswald gave a spontaneous guffaw of laughter at the sight which immediately vanished as he realised Ed was gone.  
A few feet away, he saw an ajar side door beginning its slow swing back to being closed.  
Outside, Oswald could see snow falling in the darkness. 

Ed was right.  
To win at chess, you needed to sacrifice what didn’t matter and both of their carefully constructed strategies to protect themselves were no longer working.  
All this time they had been at each other’s throats out of stubborn pride.  
When they could have been in each other’s arms.  
What good was pride if you were alone?!  
What good was it being a king if-

There was a bang as Oswald’s tightening grip popped the balloon in his hands.  
As its fragments fell to the polished floor, he caught sight of Ed’s discarded mask glinting amongst them like an errant glass slipper left behind by some careless princess.

‘If there’s nobody to share it with?’ Oswald finished.

Heart pounding and eyes glistening, he threw his own mask to the floor and chased after Ed without a backwards glance.

**Author's Note:**

> Title refers to the song 'Face to Face' by Siouxsie and the Banshees, most notably used in the masked ball scene in 'Batman Returns' and the song Ed and Oz are dancing to in this fic. The mistletoe quotation is also taken from this movie and this scene.  
> But you already knew that didn't you? ;)


End file.
